


Our Love is God

by Alizarin Tea (TeaCupsandUmbrellas)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, First Kiss, Hamilton reference, Heathers - Freeform, M/M, Theatre, This is everything I have ever needed in life, fight me i love first kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaCupsandUmbrellas/pseuds/Alizarin%20Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three things you need to know about the situation. One: Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III does not do theatre. Two: The number of times he has heard the soundtrack to Heathers is exactly eight million. He’s counted. Three: This is all entirely Vax’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Love is God

There are three things you need to know about the situation. One: Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III does not do theatre. Two: The number of times he has heard the soundtrack to  _Heathers_ is exactly eight million. He’s counted. Three: This is all entirely Vax’s fault.

Never trust a friend who wants to drag you to a workshop on the other side of the city at the horribly late hour of seven o’clock. Of course, Vax hadn’t actually explained what kind of workshop this was going to be, though Percy had guessed by the weird half-smile that refused to leave his face that it had something to do with his weird hobby.

“It isn’t a hobby, Percival,” Vax had chided him once, smacking him over the head with a fly swatter. “It’s a passion.”

Only Vax would find passion in the overdramatic. Vax was the definition of overdramatic.

Percy on the other hand? Refer back to item one.

“Is this a weird mime thing?” he asked on the way to - wait, where were they going? In the whirlwind that is Vax’ildan, Percy had forgotten to ask. “This had better not be a weird mime thing.”

“I thought you made a very convincing trapped-in-a-box person.” Vax smirked, entirely too smug and cheerful for Percy’s liking. He only ever stopped brooding when he was planning something. Or was about to draw a penis on Grog’s chin. Either way, someone usually made a trip to the emergency room as a result.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that,” he muttered darkly, burrowing deeper into his trench-coat. It was too cold to even _think_ about leaving the flat, let alone actually do it. “No, seriously, Vax, where are you taking me?”

“God, you’re no fun,” he pouted, but Percy steadfastly ignored it. Completely. Ignored it. “It’s just another workshop at the Playhouse -”

“I should have known you would drag me to that Hellhole.”

“It’s a theatre, Percy, not a god damn cesspool.”

“Is there a difference?” he asked, turning wide eyes in Vax’s direction. The other man reached out and cuffed him behind the ear, which only made Percy sink lower beneath the collar of his jacket.

“I don’t think you’ll actually mind this one,” he shrugged, the smirk sliding firmly back into place. Percy only scowled. “I hear what you play when you think no one is listening.” Percy didn’t think it was possible for Vax to be more smug. He was wrong.

“I can’t think what you mean,” he said, though his ears were starting to burn.

“You strike me as a man who has never been satisfied, Percival.”

“Oh, my god. _Shut up_.”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Unless you counted Vax’s humming through the his favourite verses of all forty-six tracks of _Hamilton_.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome to our very first seminar on the magic,” the man’s fingers snapped. “Of musical theatre.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Percy muttered, earning himself a sharp kick to the shin. He glared at Vax until his chin was forcibly turned back to the man standing in the center of the stage below them.

If Vax hadn’t always been dragging him here for inane workshops, Percy might actually have liked the theatre itself. The stage was set low, with seats rising up around it, forcing the actors to have to look up in order to keep their faces in the light. It was a small space. Intimate. Very different from the massive stages throughout the city.

At the moment, the man looking up at them was of indeterminate heritage. His skin was dark, though not as dark as his hair. The short beard on his chin was braided and looked like it might have been threaded with gold. Rings and necklaces adorned his fingers and throat and - was he wearing a cape? Theatre people were weird. They were so, so very weird. And talked a lot. Percy realised that the man had actually continued to speak only when Vax stepped on his toe. He stuck out his tongue, a very mature sign of resistance, before returning his attention to the man on the stage. What had his name been? Gilbert? George. No. Wait, something weird -

“Gilmore,” a voice said in his ear. Percy nearly jumped out of his skin, his ears immediately going bright red. “His name is Gilmore.”

Percy had given up on guessing how Vax could read his mind like it was a bloody pulp fiction novel from the nineties.

“In order to demonstrate this -” Fuck, what was being demonstrated? Percy tried to remember. Something about modern performances? Unusual use of characters, romance -

“You, sir, in the long coat.” Gilmore snapped his fingers and Percy could only stare, unblinking. “I think you’ll fit quite well into this role.” Seemingly out of nowhere, the man produced a sheet of paper. “Come along,” with another snap of his fingers, Percy found himself standing and walking onto the stage. This was going to be so much worse than the miming incident, he could already tell.

“And . . .” Gilmore continued, scanning the crowd. Percy took the sheet of paper from his hand, staring at it instead of looking up. “Your friend, perhaps? Unconventionality is the soul of theatre, after all.” Did he wink? He definitely just winked. God, was he really that obvious?

In order to distract himself, Percy actually read the words on the page. “Wait a second -”

“Some context for the audience,” Gilmore interrupted, taking Percy by the shoulders and steering him across the stage. “I trust most of us are familiar with the eighties cult-classic  _Heathers_. Hopefully with the musical, as well.” There was a ripple of murmuring, most of it assenting. Percy read through the lines, growing steadily redder and redder. “Meet the mysterious JD,” he clapped Percy on the shoulder and then held out a hand to Vax. “And the lovely Veronica.”

“I think this is a really bad idea, actually, I’m not very good at -” Percy started, looking up. And then was immediately interrupted.

“They’ve just had sex. Have fun, kids.”

Gilmore clapped his hands. The entire theatre went dark for seven seconds before the stage lights came on, leaving only Percy and Vax in the middle of the stage. Percy blinked in the sudden light, swallowing, expression begging Vax to just let him opt out. As if he had a choice. Vax just raised his eyebrows expectantly until Percy was forced to relent. Leaving Vax alone on stage would result in more pain than it was worth. And besides, Vax was his only way home.

“What’s the rush?” Percy asked, wincing at the sound of his own voice in the space of the theatre. Vax actually almost smiled. Unless that was just a weird thing with the light.

“I have to get to Heather’s house,” he recited, barely even glancing at the page as he attempted to brush past Percy. His free hand stopped him with a hand on his chest, which was immediately pulled back.

“What? You said you were done with Heather,” he said. Was that approval? Fuck, he had to stop thinking right now.

“Yeah, and that was a sweet fantasy,” Vax snorted. “A world without Heather. A world where everyone is free,” he shook his head, taking a few steps back. “But now it’s morning and I have to go kiss her aerobicized ass.”

Percy followed, one hand catching Vax’s wrist. “No, you don’t.”

“I have to!” he shook his head, hand sliding into Percy’s. Breath control. Deep breaths, Percival. Deep. Breaths. “I’m not strong . . . like you are.” Had Vax’s eyelashes always been that long, or was that a trick of the spotlight?

“Well,” he swallowed, somehow brave enough to tug Vax closer. “Let me come with you.”

“Really?” Vax looked for all the world like a man who had just been given a brand new car. Percy nodded. Shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“Thanks!”

How Percy forgot about the kiss was completely beyond him. How Vax was able to just lean in and actually do was on a whole other level entirely.

There are three things you need to know. One: Percy doesn’t really hate these workshops much as he likes to pretend. Two: He is completely, stupidly, irrevocably in love. Three: This is all entirely Vax’s fault.

Kissing Vax was not something he thought would ever happen. He could hear the sound of papers crumbling as not-so-free hands curled into shirts and trench coats. There was heat from the spotlights and Vax tasted like chapstick and Indian food and smelled like Earth and spices and fuck if Percy didn’t want to melt entirely.

And then it broke.

And then Vax - the bloody bastard of an arse - finished the scene. “By the way, you were my first.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, you should do that more often,” Vax said an hour later when they were outside. It was still cold. The warmth of the theatre did not escape out into the streets, did not do more than linger beneath the layers of his clothing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered, wrapping the trench coat tighter around his body. “I just did a lot of things I didn’t think I would ever do.”

“Multiple things, actually,” he shrugged. “The acting wasn’t half-bad.”

Percy snorted. “Right, okay. I’m sure I sounded like the woman who reads out pronunciations from Google.”

“Not even close,” Vax said, elbowing him in the side. Percy squirmed away, or at least, he tried to. Vax curled his fingers into the side of the his coat and tugged him close.

“Was there, ah,” he blinked a few times, reaching to adjust his glasses up his nose. “Something else?”

“Yeah, well. There are a few things you need to practice,” Vax said. Their breath was white between them, mingling in the cold.

“Care to tell me what so I can improve, O Master?” Percy raised an eyebrow, fighting the impulse to melt all over again.

“I think a demonstration would do us better.”

Vax was smirking even as he leant in to kiss Percy again.

 

* * *

 

There are three things you need to know. One: Percival Fredickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III would not remember the spotlight or Gilmore or anything else that happened that night. Two: He would only remember chapstick, spices, and biting cold at his neck. Three: It was all Vax’s fault.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a prompt fill. You can send all kinds of prompts, writing bunnies, or just yelling and/or crying to my tumblr.  
> You can go blame the real culprit at derolo.tumblr.com  
> Or blame me at alizarintea.tumblr.com  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
